Dreams of Another Time: A 1983: Doomsday Tale
by mdc1957
Summary: Nearly 20 years after the war that nearly destroyed everything, Prussia finds himself dealing with the consequences of another one against Poland. One haunting night, however, he is visited by an old face he never expected to see again...


Author's Notes and Disclaimer:

Here's another entry for the _1983: Doomsday Stories_. This one in particular revolves mainly around Prussia's perspective (and his dreams), though Poland and a certain Magyar make their presence very much felt. Also, the story is a follow-up of sorts to the Hungary-centric _Her Guarding Arm_, as both involve the "Polish Adventure" that got Prussia into his mess in the first place.

As a warning, things _do_ get pretty disturbing, though there's also some fanservice in there as well. Hopefully the final product works out!

As for the translations and references:

The Kingdom of Prussia is _exactly_ who and what you think it is: a revitalized East Germany that has gone back to its roots. It's described as both formidable but also a tad detached. It's also mentioned that Crown Prince Georg begins to assume more power from his increasingly insane father, eventually becoming King soon after.

The strange bird is a reference to the _Turul_, a legendary bird in Hungarian mythology.

Neu-Königsberg ("Neuer Konigsberg" in the source material) is the Germanized capital of Pomerania, the region absorbed by Prussia in-verse. In real life, it is the Polish city of Kołobrzeg.

The lines on Bismarck refer to the Austro-Prussian war in the 19th Century where Prussia trumped Austria. And of course, Old Fritz refers to King Friedrich the Great of Prussia.

Poland in the Doomsday-verse is described as split between the "Polish People's Republic" (aka "West Poland") and Commonwealth of East Poland, both of which claiming to be the country. Though here, Feliks represents more of the Communist-occupied parts. 

_Állj_ - Halt (Hungarian)  
><em>Isten, sosem változik, ugye?<em> - "God, you never change, do you?" (Hungarian)  
><em>Witaj<em> - Hello (Polish)  
><em>Polen<em> - Poland (German)  
><em>Nie wierzę w to<em> - "I don't believe this..." (Polish)  
><em>Ty draniu<em> - "You bastard" (Polish)

I don't own _Axis Powers Hetalia_ or _1983: Doomsday_. All rights belong to their respective owners.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Dreams of Another Time<br>_**

**_Or, A 1983 Doomsday Tale through a Nation's Eyes_**

Somewhere in Berlin. 2006.

"So..." Crown Prince Georg pondered as he walked down the inner halls of the restored Reichstag, alongside the albino that represented his Nation. "It appears that the situation in Neu-Königsberg is finally improving, thanks to that talk there the other day. Hopefully we may actually see this as a Prussian victory."

_Ja_. _My_ victory...Not fucking Poland's!" Gilbert huffed as he followed alongside the heir, doing a terrible job in keeping his tone calm. "Don't take it the wrong way, Your Highness. But the sooner Feliks' stubborn pricks stop blowing up everything and all that..."

"Of course," the royal sighed. "We should have seen this coming. Exterminating them has always been out of the question, you know that. But had we figured the Poles out sooner, perhaps the campaign might have ended in more preferable terms. My guess is that it wouldn't have even happened."

While the Nation found Georg to be much more pacifist than he would have liked, it was admittedly a change of pace from the current head of the Hohenzollern line. _You'd make a decent King, I'll give you that much_, he silently relented, giving a very animated shrug. _At least you're not a nutjob_. "Whatever. There's no point going over that again. Besides, we're giving Poland far too much clout for being the loser here! You'd think..."

His eyes glanced at the old windows. For a brief moment, Prussia thought that there was a strange bird flying outside. He couldn't quite put his finger on what the hell it was exactly, but it seemed as though there was a small flower on its hair that looked eerily familiar. Come to think of it, the same feeling came to mind just before he fell unconscious during that meeting with Poland. It also brought back images of a time , and certain Nations, that even now he'd rather not think about.

"Is something wrong, _Herr_ Beilschmidt?" the Crown Prince asked, noticing the Nation loosening the Iron Cross on his collar.

"_Nein_. Just had a weird feeling of _Déjà-vu_. It's probably nothing."

-o-

Gilbert usually didn't remember his dreams so vividly if at all. This was different, however. But had he known, maybe he wouldn't have slept at all.

The Nation found himself leading his army to a suspiciously pristine yet foggy plain lying before them. Apart from the strangely out of place AK-47s and grenades his soldiers carried, they would have fit right in with the armies Bismarck once sent against Austria. _Even Old Fritz wouldn't mind this sort of firepower, the albino grinned to himself_. Perhaps he was about to have another go at those damn Poles and show Feliks once and for all why he was still the best. _As if some smoke would stop the awesome m-_

"_Állj!_" An echoing voice came from a hazy figure in the fog, stopping Prussia and his men in their tracks. All he could tell from his distance was that it looked vaguely female. And yet he couldn't help but feel a cold chill running down his spine as though he recognized it from an old memory. But as the German moved cautiously nearer, so did his mysterious visitor. "_Állj! Isten, sosem változik, ugye?_ Why don't you start _now_, Prussia?"

Complete shock entered the Nation's face as a beautiful lady stepped out of the smoke. The figure wore the same light-colored uniform her people used during the very same war against her ex-husband, the flower on her hair just visible beneath the beret. What made it all the more unsettling was the familiar yet otherworldly aura she seemed to be radiating, as though her skin was faintly glowing. But even if he didn't have the balls to tell Roderich, he was sure she wasn't breathing anymore. _Let alone right in front of me..._

"_Ungarn_?" he gasped, his pistol pointed at the vision. "Y-You're dead right?"

A knowing sneer crossed Elizaveta's face. "It's old news, Gilbert. I didn't want to meet you like this…" Her tone suddenly became dark and intimidating as she walked closer. "But I'd just like to have a _word_ with you. _Like old times_?"

"S-Stay back!" Frantically the albino turned towards his army, ordering them to restrain her while he tried to snap out of it. _This is just a dream. I'm in control here…she should be nothing…_ Only for the train of thought to leave his head before the sight of Hungary making short work of the soldiers, almost effortlessly knocking them unconscious with her frying pan. Running out of options, yet refusing to run away, he fired every shot in his gun and tossed the scattered explosives at her. It was more out of instinctive self-preservation than actual hatred, but it still unnerved him having to do that to her. _Even if you're not real_.

Only for her to step out of the dust, practically unharmed. As she did so, however, the once-Nation tore off what remained of her uniform, revealing ancient-looking, yet strangely formfitting armor similar to the one she had as a child. Prussia barely had a moment to gaze at her shapely yet hauntingly pristine body before she lunged at him with her spear. Tossing the empty firearm at her, he blocked the strike with his saber, the blade just barely grazing his face. He managed to hold his own, but with each blow, parry and evasive move, the albino found it harder to fight back. Still, he didn't let up.

"Don't think being undead will help you, Liz!" Gilbert smirked triumphantly as he finally managed to pin her to the ground. "I'm still awesome at kicking ass! Hell, I managed to _survive_ because of it! Go ask Poland!"

With shocking ease, however, Hungary pulled him down in one swift move. Now on top and her spear pointed at his neck, a cold smile crossed her face as she moved her body closer to his, her voice oddly seductive. "It seems you _have_. But at what cost?"

The field suddenly cleared up, turning into a mixture of scenes from every conflict he had taken part in over the past century alone. Verdun. Warsaw. Dresden. Berlin. Neu-Königsberg. All of it culminated in the ground around him turning to irradiated wasteland, a mushroom cloud frozen in the horizon. He tried turning his head to the side, only to find what for a moment looked like the broken form of his own brother walking towards him. "West…he's…"

"Is this what you want, Prussia?" he heard her ask him in the same unnerving tone. "Doomsday should have been enough. And yet you insist on forgetting what got all of you here in the first place! I'm sorry you have to see this…" Before long, however, his focus returned to Hungary, only to find not her, but a decaying corpse in ragged clothes. All he could see of its face was impossible to describe.

"But is _this_ what you want?"

It was the last thing he remembered with any clarity. Everything else became a blur. Perhaps it was a blessing. Recalling it all might have ended the Nation right there and then.

-o-

_It was a nightmare…_ the Nation tried to convince himself as he kept the phone steady on his hand, while wiping off the sweat from his face with the other. _Liz did not just haunt my head and kick my sleeping ass. Just a fucking nightmare. Scheiße, I'm turning into four-eyes!_ Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long.

"_Witaj?_ Feliks Łukasiewicz here," an irritated yet hesitant voice spoke. "I'm not sure if the Party, like, had the lines tapped again. So this _better_ be totally worth it!"

"Um, yeah," Gilbert sighed in an attempt to sound nonchalant. "Listen, _Polen_ or whatever the hell it is they call you these days. I've just…" The Nation tried brushing her off from his mind as he forced an enthusiastic voice. "Never mind. I know we haven't been on the same page lately. So 'bout we talk this out over some drinks?"

The other end stayed silent for a few tense seconds before a cautious but more relieved sigh came across. For a moment he thought he heard the former enemy chuckling. "_Nie wierzę w to_…Alright, _ty draniu_. But you're, like, totally paying, though."

As the line was cut, Prussia wondered whether that blond pony-lover was somehow involved with the whole thing, but let it slide. If it meant for the good of his people, he was by no means above doing whatever it takes to ensure some peace of mind._ Besides, I'd have to figure it out eventually._ Noticing a suspiciously familiar bird outside his window, a wry smirk appearing on his lips.

"I hope you're happy, Liz."


End file.
